


Five times Stacey McGill kicked ass at math

by isquinnabel



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: 5 Things, Female Characters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isquinnabel/pseuds/isquinnabel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin. All five times are exact double drabbles (so, exactly 200 words each, plus headings).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Stacey McGill kicked ass at math

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/gifts).



> This was written in response to ozqueen's request for fic about Stacey being a supersmart math whiz <3 it's also using up my 'math' square on my babysitters100 prompt table at Dreamwidth.

**1\. Bake sale**

“Okay, so… are we tripling the recipe or quadrupling it?”

“Quadrupling,” declared Claudia. “It’s chocolate chip cookies! That’s just good sense.”

“I don’t think I have enough flour to quadruple it,” frowned Mary Anne, rummaging through the pantry. “I want to use up the last of this bag, though. We’re gonna have to do weird quantities.”

“No problem,” breezed Kristy. “I’ve already measured out the flour, we’ve got two-and-a-half cups.”

“And the single recipe asks for three-quarters of a cup.” Stacey paused. “Multiply everything by three-and-a-third.”

“Are you sure, Stace?”

“Positive.”

“Oh, I can do this! That means we need three-and-a-third cups of brown sugar!” Claudia took a quick bow. “Thank you, thank you. No autographs, please.”

“And five-sixths of a cup of white sugar,” added Stacey.

Kristy rolled her eyes. “So, in normal people language, a little under one cup?”

“That’ll do,” Stacey agreed.

“It’s not really practical to split an egg in thirds either,” added Mary Anne. “Just use three big ones.”

“What about the chocolate chips?” asked Kristy. “Do we multiply those?”

Claudia sighed. Wordlessly, she ripped open the oversized bag of chocolate chips, and dumped the entire thing in a bowl.

“Just use them all. Duh.”

 

**2\. Robot warfare**

“Are you sure you want to do this, Stacey?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Dori frowned. “It’s just… that whole scene is kind of jock-heavy, you know?”

“Hey!” protested Kristy. “Just because Stacey’s a girl, doesn’t mean she can’t bash the shit out of some frat boy’s robot.”

“That’s not what I mean! Of course she can do it, I don’t doubt that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s that… okay, I might have totally misread this thing, but my gut feeling is that the culture is going to be kind of toxic. Like, I have a bad feeling that the guys there will be really rough on you because you’re a girl.”

Stacey shrugged. “I thought of that.”

“And?”

“And… well, I’m doing it anyway.” (Kristy whooped.) “It looks like fun! Plus I really want the extra physics credit.”

“I’ll help,” volunteered Claudia. “Like, not with the robotics, obviously, but with the aesthetics. We’ll make the sexiest punk-rock robot ever! It’ll be awesome. Plus you can totally use my phone to call Janine if you need _actual_ help.”

“I’ll come with you on the day,” offered Dori.

“Me too!” enthused Kristy. “Can we make banners this weekend? When are you guys free?”

 

**3\. Budget proposal**

“Mom.” Stacey nodded gravely. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Hon.” Maureen glanced with suspicion at the charts and tables propped up all over the dining room. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all! Just the opposite. I have a budget proposal that I think you’ll find very exciting.”

“Uh huh,” said Maureen wearily.

Pointedly ignoring this lack of enthusiasm, Stacey pushed onwards. “I’d like to propose the possibility of my getting a car for my eighteenth birthday. Now, if you’ll look at this chart…”

“Honey—”

“…you’ll notice that I’ve mapped my projected income for the upcoming fiscal year against standard ongoing costs. Gas, insurance, et cetera.”

“Stacey—”

“I know the match-up isn’t always perfect, but there are multiple factors that this graph doesn’t take into account—“

“Stacey! Stop!”

Her face fell. “Already? But I have tons more data, Mom—”

“No, that’s not it.” She gave her daughter a rueful grin. “Sweetie, I can see you’ve put lots of work into this, but I got a call from your Dad yesterday. He wants to buy you a car for graduation.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“You’ll still need to pay the ongoing costs,” warned Maureen. “Don’t throw out that graph.”

 

**4\. Blackjack**

“Welcome to the Thomas-Brewer Casino!” Karen flashed a dazzling grin, elbow-length sequined gloves sparkling. “Here’s $1000 worth of chips, drinks are at the bar, and don’t trust Sam.”

Stacey blinked. “What?”

“Blackjack.”

“Got it,” laughed Stacey. “Thanks for the warning.”

Strains of jaunty piano music floated through the air. The most raucous activity was located in the lounge room, where Charlie was taking bets on sporting events across multiple TV screens.

“Classic Kristy, right?” Claudia materialized at Stacey’s elbow, vintage cigarette holder dangling from her fingertips. “Her Mom wanted an excuse to dress up, and she still manages a twenty-first birthday that’s basically beer and a ball game.”

“Clever. How are your bets going?”

“Um, not so good,” she replied sheepishly. “I’ve lost everything.”

“ _Already_?”

“Seriously, don’t ever let me into a real casino.”

“What happened?”

“Sam.” Claudia shrugged. “He’s got a stacked deck, or something.”

“Mmmm,” Stacey narrowed her eyes. “Come find me in an hour?”

After forty-five minutes, while Claudia was enjoying an aggressive Texas Hold ‘Em battle between Alan Gray and Shannon Kilbourne, Stacey slid gracefully into the next seat. A crisp twenty-dollar bill was in her hand.

“He’s not as smart as he thinks he is.”

 

**5\. Expert testimony**

“Ms. McGill?”

Stacey leaped to her feet. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stone.”

“Likewise. Would you like a drink?”

“A glass of water would be lovely.”

“Of course.” He gestured towards his office while his assistant whirled out the doorway, presumably to get Stacey her water. “After you.”

Mr. Stone’s office had one of the most spectacular views of Central Park Stacey had ever seen – and she had spent her childhood attending events with Laine’s family.

“Take a seat, Ms. McGill. Now, I assume your boss has run through the basics of the case?”

“Very broadly.” Stacey crossed her ankles, and gently smoothed a wrinkle out of her skirt. “She said it was to do with large-scale international fraud.”

“That’s correct. This case is extremely complex, and we’re partway through assembling a team of expert witnesses. Just so we’re clear about the goal of this meeting today, I’ll be assessing whether you’re a suitable addition to that team.”

Stacey nodded. “I understand.”

“Great! Let’s get started. You studied at Columbia?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “My doctoral dissertation was in Corporate Finance.”

“Tell me about it.”

Stacey broke into a grin. This was going to take awhile.


End file.
